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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218749">Names</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_room/pseuds/empty_room'>empty_room</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Corporal Punishment, Fantasy, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Slavery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2013-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2013-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:15:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,724</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24218749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_room/pseuds/empty_room</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Antar of Thorn finds that some slaves can be very frustrating, and that there is, in the end, only one way to have a chance of having what he really wants.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Names</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, this was written in 2013 as part of a gift exchange on livejournal. I found it today after accidentally stumbling on my dark internet past, and amongst all the utter garbage I've written, there are a couple of gems.</p>
<p>The original prompt I was given was 'reluctant slave paired with the perfect owner', but it seems I did not find it a very compelling one since I went off-track.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The new slave had arrived after the Antar of Thorn voiced a whim to his steward. It was probably a silly whim, and the Antar did not even remember what it had been – but the slave was there one day, quiet, with eyes the colour of burnished copper and hair as black as the night sky. Just a new slave to serve in his bedroom in whatever way he required. To help him dress in the mornings, undress in the evenings, and pretty enough to even serve him in bed if the Antar was particularly bored.<br/><br/>“Put down your hair,” the Antar ordered, and the slave obeyed, undoing the thick braid and letting the hair fall. It was only later that the Antar remembered the moment of hesitation. That morning, however, he noticed only how attentive the slave was with each item of clothing, how the slave respectfully never looked up further than necessary, and how carefully the slave stayed out of the way.<br/><br/>Once he was dressed, the Antar asked, “What is your name, slave?”<br/><br/>The slave paused, looking, for a moment, utterly perplexed. “I have no name other than you give me, master,” he replied, a strange accent light on the words, and the tone inscrutably calm.<br/><br/><a id="cutid1" name="cutid1"></a>“What name did your previous master call you?”<br/><br/>The slave toyed with a strand of hair, looking at some point next to his master's foot. “Such things are forgotten once past the doors of your house, master.”<br/><br/>“What did your... People call you?”<br/><br/>A briefest of frowns crossed the slave's features. He did not look up. As polite as he could possibly be, he stuck with his refusal, “I would dishonour your house to speak such a name here, master.” Lies, perhaps, but they were exactly appropriate words.<br/><br/>“Very well,” the Antar said. “Stubborn, aren't you?” He paused, considering the slave's stoic expression. “I should punish you for this, but today I feel merciful. I will call you Copper.”<br/><br/>“Yes, master. Thank you, master,” the slave replied, and the Antar did not imagine the relief in that quiet voice. Little victories like this cost much.<br/><br/>“You will come back tonight,” the Antar commanded.<br/><br/>“Yes, master.”<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>It was the best sort of evening. All the duties of office had been dispensed with, the wind shrieked outside tightly closed shutters, and the fire was pleasantly warm. Copper was kneeling just at the edge of the rug, fire playing over his dusky skin. With his head bowed, his black hair hid his expression.<br/><br/>“Do you know who I am?” the Antar asked, from his comfortable armchair. He could easily contemplate the slave, the fire, or the book in his lap.<br/><br/>“Yes, master,” the slave replied. “You are the Antar of Thorn, Lord of Saere. My master.”<br/><br/>“Do you know my name?”<br/><br/>“Yes, master. It is not correct for me to speak it.”<br/><br/>The Antar spent a while weighing this up, wondering why that response bothered him so much. “I want you to.”<br/><br/>The slave remained stubbornly silent.<br/><br/>“I command you.”<br/><br/>Copper's shoulders stiffened. “Araes se Karenae,” he said, finally, and he made it sound like a challenge.<br/><br/>Araes smiled slightly. “Do you know what you are here for?”<br/><br/>“Yes, master.”<br/><br/>“You do not need your clothes. Take them off.”<br/><br/>The slave hesitated for so long that Araes thought he would need to repeat the order. But then Copper reached to remove his tunic – folded carefully before he raised himself to remove his trousers too. Of course Copper had no underwear. No one would have given him any.<br/><br/>The side-on view was unsatisfying, however. “Face me.”<br/><br/>Copper was obedient. A subtle shift of his stance that was just enough to satisfy the command. His body was lean and graceful. He was slight, but it just made him more beautiful. What sort of man would not enjoy seeing that fragility below him? Araes reached down to palm himself in anticipation. He was already half-hard. “Do you know how lovely you are?” Araes said, half breathless.<br/><br/>“I have often been told that, master.” There was coldness in Copper's tone. A good bed slave would have blushed with pleasure, simpered appreciation and prostrated themselves right at their master's feet. Probably begged to suck that cock too, but Copper knew it would inevitably end up in his mouth. So why ask for it? Why pretend? He was not a good slave. He just shifted from foot to foot, and looked wistfully at the door.<br/><br/>It did not deter Araes. “Come here.”<br/><br/>And Copper obeyed, but he did not hide the resentment on his face.<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>“You are in an ill mood, my lord,” the steward said.<br/><br/>Araes made a disgruntled noise as he poked his breakfast. “The new slave. Where did you get him from?”<br/><br/>“The usual trader. I was assured that he is trained in the arts you appreciate. Is there a problem?”<br/><br/>“Oh, he is very well trained.” Araes replied sarcastically, dropping his fork. “He certainly knows how to do the things I like. He is certainly skilled, once he is told what to do.”<br/><br/>“But there is a problem,” the steward repeated, the hint of question in his voice.<br/><br/>“He lacked enthusiasm.”<br/><br/>“Enthusiasm?”<br/><br/>“I was very kind to him. I gave him compliments. The usual ones. I did not lose my temper when he was being an annoying little piece of shit. He refused to tell me his name. Or anything about his past. How dare he! I should have beat him bloody.” But he was the Antar of Thorn, and he had nothing if not self-control. Finally, he adds, because Copper should have been flattered and honoured, “I even took him in my bed. In my bed. I could have fucked him on the floor, or bent over a table, but I thought he might appreciate a comfortable mattress. But he sulked all the way through.”<br/><br/>“I see. Do you wish for me to get rid of him?”<br/><br/>“No!” Araes corrected his vehemence - “Not yet. Perhaps he misses his previous household. It may take time for him to get used to how we do things here. To me.”<br/><br/>“As you wish, my lord.”<br/><br/>“But punish him. Appropriately. For his lack of attention.”<br/><br/>“Yes, my lord.”<br/><br/>“Do not break his skin.”<br/><br/>“Of course not, my lord.”<br/><br/>“Send me Naya this evening.”<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>Copper moved a little gingerly, with just a hint of discomfort. The welts across his back and buttocks were still healing. He did not bleed a single drop – but there were precise lines of bruises where he had been struck. They hurt like hell, and he winced every time he sat. But it was not as if his master would ask him to sit.<br/><br/>It was not a bad name, the one he had to bear this time. Did it matter, really? It was not his real name, and that was the only thing that was important to him. How priorities changed.<br/><br/>He did his work quietly, preparing his master's bath, laying out his master's clothes. The Antar was not up quite yet. He could pause by the windows and look out through the thick glass. There was the sky, grey yesterday, bright blue today. There were birds wheeling far above. There were mountains in the distance. Fields outside the city gates, golden under the sun. The tight knit of streets below the castle. The port, full of tall, proud ships, and beyond that the wild, wind-tossed waves. This unfamiliar land told him something: he would never see his home again.<br/><br/>Done, for now, he stopped to watch unknown birds circle above the battlements. He braided his hair idly and twisted into a knot. He had been commanded to keep it loose, but he was planning to ignore that.<br/><br/>“Good morning, Copper.”<br/><br/>Copper flinched out of his thoughts and stepped back from the window. “Good morning, master.”<br/><br/>“I thought I explained how I preferred your hair.”<br/><br/>“Yes, master,” he said, and made no move whatsoever.<br/><br/>Araes was not going to let that stand. He grabbed Copper's arm to keep him still, and with his free hand pulled apart the so-carefully constructed hair-style. The strands fell messily around Copper's face. “Better. Now help me dress.”<br/><br/>“Yes, master.”<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>When Copper was summoned in the evening, his hair was irritatingly bound up again, despite having all his hair-ties confiscated.<br/><br/>“Why do you insist on disobeying me?”<br/><br/>“You can punish me, master,” Copper replied, with a thoughtful tilt of his head. If he had anything to bet, he would bet it all that this man was not actually willing to hurt him. At least, not in a way he could not endure.<br/><br/>“I still don't know if you learned your last lesson.”<br/><br/>“I gathered that you were displeased with my performance, master,” Copper answered serenely.<br/><br/>“Are you going to do better?”<br/><br/>“I endeavour to please you in all things, master,” Copper said, but distantly. There was a 'no' written in the way he looked away.<br/><br/>“You recalcitrant shit.”<br/><br/>“I do not know that word, master.” There was an interesting hint of curiosity in Copper's voice, and a momentary keenness in his gaze.<br/><br/>“Recalcitrant? It means... Stubborn. Obstinate. Disobedient.”<br/><br/>“Thank you for explaining, master.”<br/><br/>Araes found that until now, he had never seen this slave mean a single word. He had seen Copper make a vague attempt to pretend. Say words by rote. Be as disobedient as was possible without actually incurring anyone's wrath. But be actually grateful?<br/><br/>Copper dropped his eyes to the floor again.<br/><br/>“I want you in my bed.”<br/><br/>Copper inhaled sharply, and then, on the breath out, said, “Yes, master.”<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>There were many things Copper could endure, so he could endure this name, this cold castle, this horrible language, the loneliness, and his master. The Antar insisted on his presence again and again, despite continued lack of enthusiasm on his part. Sometimes the evenings began with attempts at conversation. Sometimes with just a command to undress. But every one ended the same – with Copper lying under his master like a corpse.<br/><br/>Someone else might have appreciated such a master. Might have enjoyed the effort the Antar took, but Copper was as indifferent as stone. Certainly none of the other household slaves had cause to complain. Most of them thought the Antar was a fair master. One they preferred to wherever they came from. If Copper had cause to complain, that was the fault with him, not with the master.<br/><br/>But there was one advantage to the Antar's interest in him: no one would touch him. Not really. The guards preferred to pretend he did not exist, and the servants never did more than tell him to go away. If he kept away from the more important members of the Antar's household, he could wander freely through the castle. It was not as if he had many duties. The Antar was like clockwork. He got up at the same time every morning, he was always busy until past sundown. For most of the hours of the day, Copper was left to his own devices. So he explored.<br/><br/>At the right hour, he found that the library was empty, and so long as he put away the books exactly, no one would know he was there. He did not know how to read the Northeners' angular scribbles, but the illustrations were beautiful. Bright colours highlighted with gold and silver. The library was a wonder. Copper regretted that he had no one he could ask to teach him to read, but slaves did not read here.<br/><br/>He found that the gardens were not forbidden to him. They were out of bounds for other reasons: they were too cold for clothes he was permitted. The wind was relentless. Going outside twice was enough to teach him not to do it again. It was only late summer, and yet... His clothes were a very efficient chain. They did not just mark his rank. They kept him to the warmer upper floors of the castle.<br/><br/>But then, on the highest floor of all, he discovered the observatory, with a brass telescope and wide windows. Thick carpets covered the floor. There was a desk whose drawers were full of star charts, and a number of comfortable chairs. Copper noted that servants came to clean once a week, but otherwise it was always deserted. In the afternoons, it was warm with sunlight, however the wind might sing outside. Copper came just to bask. He would move an armchair into the sunlight and curl up, like one of the many castle cats. Sleeping on the good furniture was a small but satisfying disobedience.<br/><br/>He was just dozing, nursing last night's soreness. The day was no different to the usual, and it was all his own fault that he was not alert enough. When he heard the footsteps on the stairs it was far too late to hide. He scrambled into wakefulness, putting his feet back onto the floor. “Oh,” he said, very quietly, when he saw the Antar, and slid out of the chair onto the floor.<br/><br/>“Why are you here?”<br/><br/>Copper considered possible excuses. None were very good. He considered potential evasions. None of those were much good either. In the end, he picked the truth. “I like it,” he said finally.<br/><br/>An opinion, apparently, was not what the Antar expected at all, because all he said was a baffled sort of “Really?” Araes looked curiously at the slave, but the moment was already past. Copper's eyes were again very firmly on the carpet.<br/><br/>“I will go, master.”<br/><br/>“No. Stay. Keep me company,” Araes commanded as he sat down. He chose to sit in the sun too, Copper noted.<br/><br/>Copper looked up to see the tiredness Antar's face. He felt no mercy. “I am your slave. Your property. I can no more keep you company than that chair can. There are only two differences between me and it. I can speak. You do not fuck the chair. Master.” He did not look down afterwards, his eyes like fire.<br/><br/>Araes stared back, something like reproach written across his handsome features. Copper did not flinch under that gaze. Araes knew he should punish that insult, but found himself unmoving. “Stay anyway,” he commanded.<br/><br/>“Yes, master.” Copper lowered his eyes and shifted subtly into a more comfortable position. There was tension in his shoulders. He had overplayed his hand. He should not have risked everything by speaking his mind.<br/><br/>Araes was silent for a long time. “At least you are honest. Unlike the rest of those vipers.”<br/><br/>“Thank you, master.” A faintest hint of wry humour lay in the words.<br/><br/>“You are laughing at me.”<br/><br/>“No, master.”<br/><br/>“I will not punish you for today.”<br/><br/>“As you wish, master.”<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>“Do you know what that conceited shit said to me?” Araes said, looking up from eggs and ham to glare at his steward.<br/><br/>“Who, my lord?”<br/><br/>“Copper. He said that he cannot be my companion because he is only a slave.”<br/><br/>“Why do a slave's words bother you, my lord?”<br/><br/>“Exactly. How dare he refuse to–“ Araes paused. Technically, Copper never refused anything. Maybe the hair, always stubbornly tied up. But otherwise, Copper always did what he was told, precisely and to the letter. It was infuriating.<br/><br/>“Do you wish for... A companion, my lord?”<br/><br/>“What?”<br/><br/>“It would not be difficult to find you a wife of suitable lineage, should you wish for marriage. Or if you want something less formal, I could arrange for appropriate men or women to be introduced to you. I served your father in this. It would be no trouble at all.”<br/><br/>Araes's smile was tight. “I do not need more bloodsuckers and liars. There is no need. Not yet.”<br/><br/>“You are fond of this slave, my lord?”<br/><br/>Araes frowned. “I am,” he realised, annoyed with himself. How could he possibly be fond of a slave he barely knew? How could he be fond of someone who refused to allow a single real intimacy? Ridiculous. Illogical. Unlikely. And true.<br/><br/>“Do you want me to get rid of him?”<br/><br/>“No,” Araes said. “Leave him alone. I will deal with this.”<br/><br/>“Very well, my lord.”<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>Winter here was coldest season Copper had ever known. He had never seen so much snow, and daylight lasted no more than a few hours. Sometimes strange green lights danced across the night sky, and the stars, far above, were icy and sharp. Even under the heavy furs of his master's bed, he felt cold.<br/><br/>“You look sad,” Araes said, reading Copper's expression by firelight. “What is it you miss?”<br/><br/>Copper could not bury his face in the furs and pretend he heard nothing. But he hesitated for too long.<br/><br/>“I would give you anything.”<br/><br/>“Would you?” Copper asked, too quickly.<br/><br/>“What do you want? Jewellery? Better clothes? Better rooms? Someone to serve you?”<br/><br/>Copper shivered as Araes's hand ran over his back. He frowned. “I want my freedom.”<br/><br/>“I see,” Araes said, his voice so deliberately level that a simple confirmation carried a terrifying weight.<br/><br/>Copper considered that tone. He held his breath for a moment. Quietly, barely more than a whisper, he said, “I misspoke, master. Please forget it.”<br/><br/>“I know you well enough to know you never misspeak.” Araes caressed his fingertips along the slave's back, like he was laying his claim all over again. “I will consider it.”<br/><br/>~<br/><br/>Copper had never been summoned to the Antar's study. It was over a week since that mistake of a conversation, and he had thought himself safe. Guards escorted him to the doorway, keeping their hands on his shoulders as if he might disgrace himself and run. He sank onto his knees in the doorway, glancing up. He did not know what to expect, but whatever happened, he probably had little to lose by indulging his curiosity. It was an impressive room. So much dark wood and gold. It looked old. Many generations of Antars would have used it. Even the furniture had an unbroken lineage, Copper thought, and wanted to giggle. It was only panic, he knew, and he controlled it.<br/><br/>The Antar looked different seated behind that broad desk, in the chair akin a throne. He dismissed the guards with an easy wave of his hand. The Antar spoke, “I do not think you plan on assassinating me. You may approach. Sit.”<br/><br/>The chair Copper sat on was more like a bench. It certainly made him feel penitent. He folded his hands in his lap, and kept his eyes down.<br/><br/>The Antar was silent for a while, putting aside his previous work. It was with a distracted air, like delaying a moment he did not want to meet. But eventually he was out of pieces of paper. In the end he had to speak, “I have considered your request. I will grant it. For your services rendered, you will receive an annual stipend so long as you live on my lands. I am told it is enough for you to hire a room, dress respectably and keep yourself fed.”<br/><br/>If he was not sitting, Copper could have easily collapsed. His mouth felt dry. He had no words at all. He held onto the edge of the chair, staring without expression at the Antar. Did he understand correctly?<br/><br/>“There is a condition.”<br/><br/>“A condition?” Copper said dully, dropping his gaze. It would be something horrible and cruel, no doubt. He could taste blood in his mouth where he had bitten through his lip.<br/><br/>“You will stay here until midsummer, as my guest.”<br/><br/>“What... Sort of guest?” Copper asked, warily. It was a long time to midsummer. Almost half the year. On the other hand, not so long when compared to the length of his life.<br/><br/>“I wish to court you in the appropriate manner.”<br/><br/>“Court me?” Copper repeated blankly.<br/><br/>“Does courting have a different meaning wherever you are from?” Araes asked, irritated. “I wish to convince you to be my lover. You will have your own rooms. I will ensure you have the appropriate wardrobe and appropriate attendants. You will sit at my table at dinner. You will accept my invitations to whatever social events I feel like inviting you to. You will be taught the appropriate manners.”<br/><br/>Copper picked at a thread of his tunic. He was at a loss. He had nothing to say to this.<br/><br/>“I will not take you to bed unless you invite me,” Araes added.<br/><br/>Copper did not look up. “At the end, if I do not wish to be your lover, I may leave?”<br/><br/>“Yes.”<br/><br/>“I know the... Appropriate manners,” Copper pointed out quietly.<br/><br/>Araes blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback. “What?”<br/><br/>“Nothing.”<br/><br/>Araes frowned, unsure what to make of that. He did not know what to say, so he tried bribery as well: “If you become my lover, you will have a title. It would have to be a minor one, of course. A little land and a permanent position in my court.”<br/><br/>“What will people say?”<br/><br/>“I am the Antar of Thorn. It is past the time I start collecting inappropriate consorts.”<br/><br/>Copper had no idea if that was some sort of joke. He did not smile. “I accept your condition.” There was no reason to refuse. None at all. Everything Copper had ever heard about Araes told him that this man would keep his word, whatever that was. If necessary, he could endure this too. And perhaps it might not be unpleasant. Perhaps.<br/><br/>“I thought you would,” Araes said, satisfied. “You may call me by my name, from now on.”<br/><br/>“As you wish... Lord Araes?” The name was strange on Copper's tongue, but better than 'master'.<br/><br/>“What is your name?”<br/><br/>He paused, frozen for a moment. Uncertain. But then, if Araes would truly give him his life back, then, perhaps, Araes deserved to know the answer to this one question. Such a simple question. And the answer was just one word. Just one word. Not very long. Not so difficult to say. Not spoken for many years. He took a breath. He straightened his spine and his shoulders, and looked up to meet Araes's eyes. “I am Jinan, my lord.”<br/><br/>“Jinan. That suits you better, I think. I am glad to know it.”<br/><br/>Jinan's smile was faint – but it was a smile. For once.</p>
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